Master Under Good Regulation

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Master Under Good Regulation Page 8

by Kara Louise


  In consideration of my master leaving, we spent a good amount of time together the week prior to his departure. As much as I enjoyed his company, the knowledge that he was about to leave weighed heavily upon me. As each day passed, I knew it was one less before he would be gone from Pemberley.

  *~*~*

  Preparations were soon underway for my master to quit Pemberley. There was much to consider in planning for such a venture and my master was grateful for Wheaton’s expertise on what he would and would not need.

  The day before he was to leave, he and I took one final walk together. His eager anticipation for his future plans was tinged with sadness in having to leave his father and sister. I hoped he was saddened to be parted from me as well. I certainly was.

  “Well, Reggie,” he looked at me and reached down to stroke my fur. “Tomorrow I leave. I am not sure when my studies will allow me to return next. I hope it will be some time around the holidays.”

  Looking up at him, I saw him smile. “You really know how to get the best of me, Reggie, with those big, dark, beguiling eyes of yours. But Reggie, you need not worry. Father, Georgiana, and all the staff here will take prodigiously good care of you.”

  I whimpered to let him know I understood, but was feeling the ill effects of our imminent separation all the same.

  “Most of all, Reggie,” he continued as he stopped and crouched down, lifting my head and looking into my eyes, “You watch out for Father and Georgiana. Perhaps you can bring to their lives a bit more liveliness. I am afraid it is not in my constitution to do that, but I am persuaded that is something you might be able to do.”

  We walked on a little further, enjoying the warmth of the sun beating down upon us. I occasionally darted off after some squirrel or rabbit just to give them a good run, and promptly returned to my master to let him know I had succeeded in my feat. He smiled, knowing that I was merely practicing for when I would be out on a real hunt for real game. But it was a melancholy smile, as we were both cognizant of the fact that this would be our last time together for quite some time.

  Our idyllic time together was suddenly interrupted when I sensed an unwelcome presence and let out a growl. My master looked at me curiously as we came to a turn in the path and found ourselves face-to-face with Wickham. Fortunately, he was without Storm. When my master saw that it was Wickham, he whispered softly, “That explains your caution, Reggie.”

  “Ahhh, Darcy,” the young man forced a smile. “You are off tomorrow for Cambridge, I hear.”

  “That is correct.”

  “I expect you are anxious to get there. This place will not be the same without you.”

  “I was under the impression you were en route there yourself.”

  “I have decided it would be most beneficial if I were to defer it at least a year. There is much I wish to accomplish here first.”

  Darcy eyed him suspiciously as Wickham seemed smugly pleased with this decision. For my part, I shuddered to think of what Wickham would consider an accomplishment.

  “Fear not, Darcy. I am most willing to see to your father’s well being in your absence. As he has generously promised me an education at Cambridge, which I will take him up on next year, I am most obliged to him. It would only be fitting for me to do what I can for him in your absence. He has truly been an honourable godfather to me and I know he looks upon me as a second son.”

  Darcy took in a deep breath as he listened with building anger to Wickham’s duplicitous and piercing words. “I doubt that my father will need any assistance from you, Wickham.”

  “You do not wish me to look in on my own godfather and see to his well being?”

  “Perhaps I do not completely trust your motives.”

  “Come, Darcy. We have been friends since childhood. There is no need to think ill of me or my motives.”

  “We have long ago gone considerably different ways, Wickham.”

  The two men stood watching each other in a guarded silence. Finally, Wickham declared, “Well, I must be off. I am sure you must want some time with your dog before you leave. I suppose you heard that my dog disappeared,” Wickham gave a wicked laugh and looked down at me, sneering. “‘Tis nothing to me, however. I can get another dog as easy as that.” He snapped his fingers quite forcefully. “But I suppose it must be exceedingly difficult for you to leave your only friend behind.”

  Now whilst I would pride myself on being my master’s closest and most intimate friend, I did not particularly perceive his comment as a compliment. I was most relieved when Wickham took his leave with nary another word.

  My master shook his head as Wickham turned and walked away. “I cannot believe my father has been so blinded by his deceitful charm. How can he not see his true character? I only hope he will inevitably show his true character to my father so he will recognize him for what he is.” A kick to the path beneath his feet scattered some dirt and rocks as he expressed his contempt. “Come, Reggie. We have a long walk ahead of us. I do not want to return home until I am in command of my anger.”

  We finished our last walk together and that night, being our final night together, I snuggled up close to him in the bed. He reached over and rested his hand across my back, stroking it several times before falling asleep. I, however, slept fitfully as I felt that a part of me was going away.

  *~*~*

  The next day he departed for Cambridge early, and as I watched the carriage convey him down the long lane that led away from Pemberley, I could not help but feel as though something had been yanked from my heart. I watched as Georgiana clung to her father in tears, wondering why her brother had to leave, and I did not miss the tears that filled his eyes as he reached down to pick her up. I knew we all were going to miss him greatly.

  I was obligingly allowed to spend nights in my master’s quarters. Whilst it soothed my spirits to sleep upon his bed and be surrounded by his familiar scent, it was simply not quite the same.

  What was this thing called ‘education’ that my master was obtaining? I wondered. Was it something that would enable him to understand me better? Would it improve our time together? I highly doubted that, as it was already as excellent as I could perceive it to be.

  And whilst I knew I must endure a considerable amount of time without his presence, save for the occasional short visit home when it was allowed, I could not imagine how difficult it must have been for him to endure that strange place called Cambridge without family or friend.

  Over the next few days it was not difficult to observe the depth to which his father and sister missed him. Georgiana often clung to her father, frequently asking for her brother and crying out for him, whilst I repeatedly witnessed his father walk over to a window and stare out, as if expecting or hoping to see him return at any moment. I deeply missed him and longed for our intimate talks and our meandering walks.

  Up until this point in my tenure at Pemberley, my master’s father had rarely taken any semblance of interest in my well being. However, several weeks after he left, we had a dramatic change in our relationship.

  I was sitting in the drawing room one afternoon whilst Mr. Darcy was in his study. Georgiana was resting in her room and I felt a wave of intense loneliness take hold of me. The staff was attending their chores and I was left to myself. Feeling quite forlorn, I rambled about the house, sniffing out anything that still might have my master’s scent upon it. I came upon the open door of the study and looked in, wondering what it was that Mr. Darcy was doing in there. He must have sensed that I was there as he looked up at me briefly, but then set his eyes back down to the book he was reading. I remained where I was until, after a few more moments, he looked back up and to my surprise, bid me to come in.

  I came around slowly and sat tentatively beside his chair. “I know it has been very quiet around here, boy, but do not despair. He is not gone for good. My son will be home again, now and then, until his education is complete. I know you miss him.” He reached down and hesitantly stroked the top of my head. “
I miss him too.”

  Suddenly he stood up. “Perhaps you might join me for a walk about the grounds. Would you care to do that, Reggie?”

  My tail wagged eagerly as he stood up. “Come, let us see how well those paths and lanes are being maintained by our grounds keeping staff. I have been neglectful lately in taking strolls through them as I ought.”

  Our eyes met and I recognized an amiable regard as he looked down on me.

  We walked out and immediately I scampered down my favourite path that led down to the lake. It felt gratifying to give my legs a good run, my first since my master had left, but I most obediently returned to Mr. Darcy’s side. We walked silently at first and then he reached down and picked up a suitable stick, which he threw ahead of us. I raced to retrieve it and returned it to him. As we walked, he continued to throw and I continued to fetch it.

  The path to the lake took us through a copse, which afforded me several opportunities to scamper after creatures rustling in the thickets. Though most scurried away before I was even able to see what it was, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. We finally made our way to the lake and Mr. Darcy took in some deep breaths.

  “I fear I am not as young as my son, Reggie. He is still youthful and can handle a walk such as this quite easily. For me, on the other hand…” He took in some more breaths. “Perhaps I should do this more often and then it would not be such an arduous task.”

  He sat down on a fallen log and looked out across at the water, its wind-whipped caps dancing across the water and the pale blue of the sky extending endlessly above. I believe we both felt a bond forming between us that sprang from our common feelings of yearning for one excellent young man.

  I sat down next to him as he recovered from our strenuous walk. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts as his hand tentatively reached over and brushed through my fur, very much like his son often did. His eyes lit up as he began speaking of his son.

  “Fitzwilliam is a fine young man. I am exceedingly proud of him, but I fear I may have been remiss in my behaviour of late.” He let out a soft moan and I obliged him with one of my own. “Ever since his good mother passed, I fear I have allowed my grief to shape my conduct towards him and dictate my overall demeanour.”

  I looked up at him and he smiled back at me. “You have been good for him, Reggie. I think I may have been wrong in demanding restraint in my son’s behaviour as I have over the years. Even before my dear Anne died, I insisted that he behave in an adult-like manner. Perhaps, as Anne told me so often, I never really allowed him to have a childhood. But that was the behaviour my father expected from me. When his good mother died, I fear I became even more stern. I wanted nothing to do with gaiety and laughter. I found any joviality to be distressing to me, my grief still so raw, yet deep in my heart I knew it was wrong to keep my son from moving past his own grief.” He tousled the fur on my head and stood up. “I know, Reggie, that when he was with you, he was free from the constraints I demanded and he enjoyed himself. For that I am grateful.”

  He stood up and we began walking again back towards the house. “He is a lot like me, you know; perhaps too much. We are, I believe, both of a similar disposition; very reserved by nature. I wonder if I may have done him a disservice this past Season in Town. My response to being considered eligible again was to shy away from the attention. When I should have been encouraging him to accept the attentions of the fine young ladies he met, I was doing quite the opposite. I fear I set a very poor example for him to follow.”

  A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Rather than learning how to joyously receive the acquaintances of the finest young ladies in society, I believe, instead, he came to feel awkward in receiving them… just as I was.”

  He face and tone of voice took on a faraway deportment. “When I was Fitzwilliam’s age, social functions were just as difficult for me as they are now for him, perhaps even more so.” Sighing, and seemingly choked up, he continued, “Anne had an endearing liveliness and grace that made the demands of society much easier for me. I can only hope that my son finds someone to complement him as fittingly as I did with Anne.”

  We returned to the house and because of my elation in being taken into Mr. Darcy’s confidence and regard, I noticed nothing unusual. Therefore, I was most alarmed when Mrs. Reynolds approached us as we walked into the house. “Young Mr. Wickham is here to see you, Sir. He wished to wait for your return and is in the sitting room.”

  “Oh, splendid! Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

  As Mr. Darcy walked off, I chided myself at missing that particular scent that caused my fur to stand up on end across my back. I wondered whether I should follow him, remain where I was, or valiantly block his way, thus preventing him from going to that scoundrel. I decided it would be most prudent if I did not do the latter, but instead, compromised on the first two. I decided to follow him to the door. I would not enter, but I definitely wanted to hear what was said.

  Mr. Darcy walked in. “Wickham, it is good to see you. Your family is well?”

  “Yes, Sir. Very kind of you to inquire. They are all well, thank you.”

  “I am glad to hear that. I see your father regularly, of course, but not your mother.”

  “She would appreciate your concern, Sir.”

  “Come, let us go to my study so we may talk.”

  The two men walked towards the study and I followed closely behind. “So what can I do for you, Wickham?” Mr. Darcy asked as they walked.

  “Sir, I have come to offer my assistance whilst your son is from home. I am most obliged that you perfectly understood my wish to defer my education for a year. And as you have so generously offered your benefaction at Cambridge, I hoped to be able to offer you my returned esteem in your son’s absence. I know how much you will miss him. Please allow me to ask if there is anything I might do for you.”

  Stopping at the door of his study, Mr. Darcy put one hand on Wickham’s shoulder. “Wickham, you are like a son to me. Indeed, you are my godson. As for the education, I could not have done any less. You owe me nothing, though I do appreciate your offering.”

  “I only wish to prove worthy of your patronage, Sir.”

  “You excel as I hope you will and I am sure you shall.” Slapping him heartily upon his shoulder, Mr. Darcy indicated that the young man should enter the study.

  The two men walked into the room and the door was closed. I was not able to discern any more particulars of the conversation, but I heard Wickham laugh frequently and Mr. Darcy followed suit. It seemed quite peculiar to me to hear Mr. Darcy laugh as he did. I could not recollect him ever doing so in the company of my master. I wondered if that was one of the reasons he enjoyed Wickham’s company. He made him laugh. But I knew Wickham’s charm deceptively cloaked his ulterior motives.

  When Wickham and Mr. Darcy finally walked out of the room, I kept my head down, but looked up at them and could not help but notice a very smug smile on Wickham’s face. Mr. Darcy had the look of pleasing regard upon his that only served to make me shudder.

  That day set the tone for the following year whilst my master was away. When the weather was accommodating, Mr. Darcy would invite me to join him for a walk on the grounds. I believe it was good for him. He often told me of letters his son had written and informed me of his progress at Cambridge. He was applying himself faithfully to his studies, having very little time for any sort of social life, and doing exceptionally well. I was not surprised.

  In the evenings, I would sit by Mr. Darcy’s side. He would often have Georgiana join us and he would either read her a story from a book or tell her a tale of his early years and the three of us became very close. She and I became tireless playmates for one another. When she was not studying with her governess or practicing on the pianoforte, I was allowed to join her out on the grounds in her play area. She was just as reserved as her brother and father, and whilst I had not yet been able to bring out any excessive liveliness in her demeanour, she seemed to enjoy our time together.

 
We found great enjoyment in a good game of tug-of-war with any old slipper or good stick she could find. She loved to throw a ball as far as she could and eagerly waited for me to return it. Truth be told, her small arms did not allow her the length of throw to which I was accustomed with my master, however, I always made sure not to return it too fast, lest she felt her throw was wanting. Georgiana’s idea of an enjoyable physical pursuit was very different from my master’s. For example, often I would scamper about as she soared high on her swing. I must admit the motion made me quite nervous and she would giggle as I barked anxiously until she finally brought the swing to a stop and was safely back on the ground.

  If it were for these things only, my days spent without my master would have been tolerably contented. But there was often an addition to our family gathering that year that I found quite disconcerting. Wickham was becoming a very frequent guest at the house. He and Mr. Darcy seemed to have an extremely easy friendship.

  It was his attempts to befriend Georgiana, however, that concerned me. He was ingratiating and all ease to her, much to her delight and my chagrin. Unfortunately, I could easily see why. Her brother was gone and Wickham was there in his absence, being particularly attentive towards her. Georgiana relished this attention and began to exhibit a very strong regard for him.

  Whilst I could hope that Mr. Darcy would one day see the real Wickham as my master and I did, I had my doubts that little Georgiana would ever think ill of him. She was still exceedingly shy around most people, but Wickham’s recurrent presence in the home soon allayed all her inhibitions toward him and I believe she was growing to love him almost as much as she loved my master.

 

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